


I Bet You Would Look Good On the Dancefloor

by illustriousprotagonist



Category: DESTROYA - My Chemical Romance (Song), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Artist Gerard Way, Clubbing, Daddy Frank Iero, Dancing, Dirty Talk, Drinking, M/M, Sober Gerard Way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2016-08-30
Packaged: 2018-08-11 22:37:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7910281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/illustriousprotagonist/pseuds/illustriousprotagonist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard hates clubs. But, somehow, a handsome stranger seems to make the whole ordeal a little better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Bet You Would Look Good On the Dancefloor

**Author's Note:**

> Made for my dear, beautiful friend, Rachel (@deathof.frerard on IG). I wanted to write something for her, so she recommended a crossover of Planetary GO! and Destroya. Sorry it took so long, love. Enjoy!

Gerard Way didn’t like clubs, parties, or anything in between. A few run-ins with death were more than enough to turn him around.

But, tonight, Ray--fucking _Ray_ , of all people--dragged him back out to the club scene for one last night out before Gerard called it quits for good.

Begrudgingly, he allowed himself to go to one of Ray’s friends’ clubs. Gerard didn’t care who is was, didn’t care where it was, and he sure as Hell didn’t care what kind of club it was--he _knew_ he was going home within an hour of being there.

“Meet someone! God knows everyone has had enough of your lonely-ass whining,” Ray had said.

Gerard could hear the music blaring from outside the club. Ray was wearing a heavy jacket, but Gerard chose a thin, black sweater. He put his arms around his body, shivering slightly, whereas Ray was just fine. Damn his aesthetic. But they were close to the front of the line, and people were being allowed inside quickly.

Gerard and Ray had no qualms about getting inside. The bouncer was large and slightly intimidating, but Gerard knew he meant no harm.

As soon as he stepped into the venue, Ray was gone into a crowd of people. “So much for friends,” Gerard muttered to himself, making his way over to the bar. A bartender walked over to him as he sat down. “What’s your poison?” he asked, wiping the inside of a glass.

“Coke on the rocks,” Gerard yelled over the music. If anyone was going to be a designated driver, it was probably going to be him. Gerard knew Ray enough to tell he was going to be shitfaced by the end of the night.

The bartender looked at him oddly but shrugged. He filled the glass with cubed ice and Coke, sliding it across the bartop.

The rule of sobriety was to not let yourself be tempted with alcohol, Gerard recited. He wasn’t even remotely tempted, as the smell alone was enough to make him want to vomit the one meal he had today.

The music was pounding. He could feel the bass through his whole being--shaking his bones and rattling his lungs. He could feel every hair prickling up on his skin as the beat seemingly shook the entire building.

Resentment spilled over him as he turned around and saw people grinding on each other on the rainbow dance floor. Perhaps the hatred came from his own desire for romance. He knew, for one thing, he wasn’t going to look for love in a shallow place like this. People who came to clubs were only looking for one, two, or all of three things: to get hammered, a one-night stand, or to lose their minds. Gerard was looking for none of those. He wanted nothing more than to be back in his apartment, drawing the night away. Maybe some flowing music in the background.

He sighed at the wonderful, escaping thought. Sipping his Coke gently, he turned back around, facing the distant wall. Maybe he could just jack Ray’s car and make him find his own way home. That would be a sight to see.

But Gerard, of course, was too caring to let his friend wander around the streets of New Jersey, drunk and alone. He just had to suck it up and drink his (now) watered-down coke.

The music was giving him a headache and he wanted to go home. Damn it, Ray, Gerard muttered to himself.

The bartender returned to Gerard, sliding a drink over to him.

“I didn’t order any--” Gerard tried.

The bartender put his hand up to silence Gerard. “It’s from that guy over there, relax.” He nodded his head in the direction of a particularly handsome stranger maybe ten stools down from Gerard. The man was mysterious, he’d give him that.

Maybe he was handsome. Maybe he wasn’t. Gerard only took a glance at the guy. That was all he cared enough to do.

But, Gerard noticed, no guy who wants to be mysterious can really be. There’s always something about wanting attention that gives them away. Mysterious guys always gave themselves away.

The man winked.

Gerard slid the drink back to the bartender. “I don’t drink, sorry.”

“It’s Sprite,” the bartender replied, sliding the drink back to Gerard.  _Sprite?_

Gerard was taken aback. Flattered, yet suspicious. The dude could’ve slipped something into it, for all he knew. “Did he do anything to it?

“No, man. He paid for it and everything. Told me he noticed you weren't drinking beer or nothin'.”

Gerard set the empty Coke glass to the side, replacing the empty hand that was left with Sprite. He lifted it to the man in a short “thank you” gesture.

He saw, in his peripheral vision, the man come closer to him. He was getting annoyed but appreciated someone taking an interest in him anyway.

“Hey, there, beautiful,” the man yelled over the music. “What’s a handsome guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“Just helping a friend,” Gerard yelled back. He was getting weirded out. Perhaps the most strange thing, to him, was that the man had no problems with hitting on another man. Wasn’t he the least bit worried the guy would turn out to be straight? Gerard was, in no way, straight. He was as straight as a sphere, if that made sense. “Thanks for the drink, by the way. Real nice of you.”

“It's no trouble. I’m Frank.” The man held out his hand and Gerard took it, much to his hesitation. Gerard turned on the stool to face the man. He only took sidelong glances at him, so he had no solid idea of what he looked like. But, when he looked him in the eyes, he melted.

He was hot.

Goddamn, he was hot.

Gerard suddenly found it hard to speak. “I-I’m Gerard…”

Frank had beautiful green eyes. Even in the darkness of the club, Gerard could see them sparkle. The short, black hair made him look older than he probably was. He had a slim yet long nose structure, as if it's not a weird thing to notice bone structure. Frank was, in most ways, unlike any other man Gerard had ever seen. He had tattoos running up and down his neck. Gerard noticed what looked like a scorpion on one side of his neck.

“So _now_ you’re just starting to notice me?” Frank asked, an eyebrow raised as he took a sip of his drink. He noticed more tattoos on his fingers and wrist. Dear God, how many tattoos could one man get? He must be a pain freak. Gerard couldn't stand to get tattoos, let alone look at any needles. A morbid fear, he called it.

Gerard stuttered a reply, but it was drowned out by the music. “Nah, don’t worry. ‘M joking.”

Frank waited a minute before speaking. “So, what brings you by? You alone, tonight?”

“In the emotional sense, yes, I am alone. In the physical sense, no. My friend dragged me here.”

In a split-second decision on Gerard's part, he had a change of heart. Instead of feeling bad for himself and hating Ray's guts, he could have fun. And he saw the perfect opportunity to do so.

“Also, in the physical sense, I have you to keep me company, yeah?” Gerard yelled, snapping out of his daze and returning to his drink.

“Is that an invitation for me to ask if you’d like to dance?” Frank asked, picking up his own drink.

“I suppose it is, Frankie.” Gerard slid off the bar stool and started walking backwards, towards the crowd of sweaty, dancing bodies. He never once broke eye contact with the mysterious stranger named Frank.

No one could see the dance floor. It was wall-to-wall people dancing to upbeat music. There was no room for anyone else, but Gerard somehow fit himself inside the mass.

In the dark of the club, all Gerard could see were the deep green eyes of the man who took interest in him.

He closed his eyes and let himself go. He found within himself a beat that brought him to extroversion. He wouldn’t normally do this, but the circumstances were extraordinarily weird. Gerard danced like no one was watching. But, of course, everyone else was dancing like no one was watching, either.

The music made Gerard’s skin jump and twitch with anticipation. The music was a drug that brought him higher and higher until his mind buzzed with clouded colours. He felt as if his soul was on fire, shining so brightly that his skin would start to glow. The night was so young, and his body had so much energy to be released. He could’ve danced for eons and many years more.

That was, until Frank came up behind Gerard, snaking his hands all up and down his sides. Gerard put his head back on Frank’s shoulder, his mouth open in a positively erotic way.

The club had a great vibe and flow. There was love and sex and passion in the air, and everyone could feel it. Frank whispered Gerard’s name as their bodies touched. Slowly, they became entwined in each other. Their hearts fused into one while their bodies moved to the beat of the music. They didn’t need to dance to the beat, however, for their bodies could make their own rhythm.

Gerard was surprised with himself. He _wasn’t_ himself, and he noticed. But he admired this new self, as much as it scared him. This new brand of lust and passion was brought on by hatred for Ray’s desire to get women and get drunk.

He _liked_ this new version of himself. This man wasn’t Gerard, but someone entirely different. Still, he loved every touch Frank was giving the shell of Gerard’s body.

Suddenly, Gerard saw Ray across the room. His eyes were wide and his mouth was agape. Gerard smirked and tilted his head into Frank’s shoulder again. He arched his back erotically. Gerard, in that moment, was sex in itself.

Ray knew he could never see Gerard in the same light ever again.

If there was a life for them beyond the club, Frank knew he could never see Gerard in a different light. Every time he would see Gerard, he would see this image of him; eyes slitted, mouth hung open in a silent moan. He would never see him any differently, and that created a slight problem for Frank. Perhaps, if there was more for them after clubs, Frank could learn to not see Gerard as a sexual object, but rather a human being. A human being with feelings and emotions and desires and needs.

A human being who craved affection as much as he did.


End file.
